


Bear Ears

by kibasniper



Category: Psychonauts (Video Games)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Gift Fic, Short & Sweet, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26986735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: Maloof tells Elka about the time Mikhail made an odd request at a bar.
Relationships: Maloof Canola/Elka Doom
Kudos: 3





	Bear Ears

**Author's Note:**

> birthday fic for andy! hope you like it! happy birthday!

“Oh, did I tell you about the time Mikhail really wanted bear ears?”

Elka let her fingers dangle just above his scalp. Maloof's question came out of nowhere. In their conversation, Mikhail had not been mentioned, and they certainly were not discussing animals. What was a discussion about workplace drama, specifically Agent Suzuki having a verbose, ear-splitting argument over the phone with his nephew in the middle of the media relations office, suddenly took a turn for the peculiar.

Maloof looked up at her from his spot on her lap. He pressed his paperback novel to his chest, his deep brown eyes searching any signs of interest in her expression. The way her thin lips pursed together made them seem almost nonexistent on her face, her surprise further illuminated with how her baby blue eyes widened.

“A tough, strong guy like Mikhail wanting...bear ears? Am I relaying that right?” she asked, a chuckle puffing out of her. She continued raking her fingers through his hair, gently digging her manicured nails in his scalp.

Maloof sighed, his grin lopsided at her touch. “Oh, yeah, it does sound weird, but he was all over them because of Quentin.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. If anything odd happens in during otherwise mundane time, then he's usually the culprit.” She looped her finger around a stray curl, noticing that it was a bit longer than the others. Giving it an experimental tug, she asked, “How could Quentin have roped Mikhail into wanting bear ears?”

Maloof turned to his side, giving Elka more access to that one strand. Feeling her wrap it around her bony pinky finger, Maloof pulled at his collar and said, “Basically, we were at a bar in Houston a couple months ago when Quentin brought it up. He kept saying stupid things like 'Wouldn't it be banger if we had animal ears, bros?' and 'If I had dog ears, then my hearing would be twice as good. I'd hear all those whistles made just for them.'” He shrugged. “I thought the booze was making him too out of it, but I glanced at Mikhail and knew he was hooked.”

“How ridiculous,” she purred, clipping the hair behind Maloof's ear. “What did Mikhail do?”

As she threaded her fingers to the nape of his neck, he repressed a shudder as best as he could. Her expression informed him that he still had her curiosity, but she continued stroking through a few split ends that tickled his earlobes. Perhaps regaling her with a humorous anecdote while she was playing with his hair, a habit she simply could not break ever since they were children, was not appropriate for a quiet evening at home, the television on low volume, the moonlight slipping in through the curtains, but he decided that notion could fling itself out the window when she smiled that enchanting, rosy grin at him.

“So, Mikhail was focused entirely on what Quentin was saying. He had the sternest look on his face, and I thought he lost his voice for a minute when he let Quentin ramble on. Hell, I even thought he sobered up and was gonna punch him for going on and on about it,” Maloof recalled, and he knocked on the air. “I had to bang his shoulder to bring him back to earth, and he turned to me and said, 'Maloof, I need bear ears now.'”

She imagined Mikhail's deep, accented voice requesting something so entirely childish that it evoked a giggle out of her. Elka cupped her chin, her cheeks rising and making the corners of her eyes crinkle. “God, he would say it like that,” she said through her chuckling.

Maloof nodded, laughing along with her. “He said, 'They could be under my hat. They could help me hear approaching enemies. Tiny boss, give, give, give them to me as payment for services. You pay for surgery,'” he recalled, raising his hands and twitching his fingers. “'Tiny boss, I neeeed them. Give me them. You rich, you can pay best surgeon in the world for it.'”

“Was he that out of it?” Elka asked, laughing louder than before. She pressed her palm to her brow, shaking her head. “Was he really grabbing at you like some kind of angry toddler?”

“He practically latched on to my arm! I thought he was gonna yank it off if I said no,” Maloof exclaimed, patting the arm that Mikhail had clung to that night. “If Phoebe didn't wrestle him off me, then I think he would have left a couple bruises on me. The last thing I remember Mikhail doing before Phoebe took him outside was him saying very quietly, 'Phoebe, you like me with or without bear ears, yes?'” 

“That poor girl has to deal with such a troublemaker,” she murmured, resuming her massage. She watched his shoulders slack, listening to the quiet hum he uttered into his closed lips.

“Mikhail didn't remember a single thing the next morning.” He arched his brows and showed his teeth as he grinned. “As soon as I saw him, I told Mikhail, 'I contacted the surgeon. He said he'll do the operation for you tomorrow,' and let me tell you, the panic in his face was beautiful.”

Elka's laughter pitched, hitting a high note Maloof thought impossible. She clapped her hand over her mouth, her brief bout of inelegance passing as she cackled between her fingers. She drummed her fingers into his scalp, and he beamed at her, his cheeks flushing as she turned a deep shade of red, her chest heaving when she tried catching her breath.

“Maloof, that's terrible!” she cajoled, tracing her hand across his round cheek.

“But it was worth it,” he remarked, pointing at her.

She calmed down, taking in deep breaths and gasping out giggles. She grinned and stroked a soft spot on his neck, lowering that same finger to smooth a wrinkle in his collar. “Oh, you little devil,” she purred, “what am I going to do with you?”

“Not get rid of me if I do something like that to you,” he joked, hoping his words would not become an omen.

She rubbed her thumb across his cheek bone and softened her smile. “Of course not,” she promised, and he rose from her lap, capturing her lips in a quiet kiss.


End file.
